


A Better Love Story

by aosav



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Library, Explicit Language, Librarian Iwaizumi, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 12:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10741716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aosav/pseuds/aosav
Summary: Iwaizumi is a librarian. Oikawa comes to the library a lot.





	A Better Love Story

**Author's Note:**

> As prompted by HarmoniousDestruction: Iwaizumi-centric, mythology, light, library AU.

Iwaizumi steals another glance at the table in the far corner of the mythology section, pausing with a book in his hand and his hand in the air as he leans to the side just enough to peer around the end of the aisle and see him.

Pretty Student is wearing a blue sweater today that looks almost as soft as his hair. He’s spinning a pen lazily in one hand while tapping at the open book in front of him with the other, his lips pursed in thought. The low-hanging lamp above him is bathing him in muted light that reflects off of his glasses when he tilts his head to the side.

He comes here all the time. Like, three or four days a week every week for the last three months. He usually checks out a couple of books on each visit, always about either mythology or space, usually a mix of the two subjects. Iwaizumi doesn’t really know much about him other than that, but he figures that the guy must be a student. Why else would he read stuff like that, and so much of it?

“Thought I’d find you here,” Hanamaki says, sidling up to Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi hurriedly shelves the book he is holding and turns to face his co-worker. “I do work here, you know,” he says in what he knows is an obvious deflection.

“Mm-hm,” Hanamaki agrees. “But I meant _here_ , by the mythology section – or should I say the hot student section?” He steps around Iwaizumi, peering around the end of the isle like Iwaizumi was doing a moment ago.

Iwaizumi jerks him back, shooting a quick look at Pretty Student to make sure they haven’t draw his attention.

They haven’t; Pretty Student is as absorbed in his studying as ever.

“I came over here to put these books away, not to harass some student,” Iwaizumi snaps. He didn’t even know that Pretty Student was here until he came over to shelve these books. He isn’t a stalker or anything – he’s just doing his job.

“Mm-hm,” Hanamaki says again. “But it is really harassment if he’s obviously as into you as you’re into him? I mean, he’s always staring at you.”

“He doesn’t stare at me,” Iwaizumi protests. He would know if Pretty Student stared at him. Every time Pretty Student comes in, they seem to end up near each other – either Pretty Student comes up to the counter to ask for help finding something or else Shimizu, the library manager, sends Iwaizumi to shelve books in whatever section Pretty Student happens to be sitting – so Iwaizumi would know if Pretty Student stared at him. He would notice.

Not because _he_ stares at Pretty Student, or anything, but because he … notices … the guy. That’s all. Iwaizumi notices people in general. Iwaizumi is very perceptive when it comes to people. He would notice if Pretty Student was staring at him. Not because Pretty Student is special, or anything, but just because Iwaizumi notices these kinds of things.

That’s all.

“Oh my god,” Hanamaki suddenly hisses in a stage whisper, looking beyond Iwaizumi with wide eyes, “he’s staring at you _right now_.”

Iwaizumi whips his head around.

Pretty Student has his head bent over his book, very obviously not staring at Iwaizumi.

“Not funny,” Iwaizumi tells Hanamaki, turning back around to glare at him.

“No, it isn’t,” Hanamaki says. “It’s just sad. How much more obvious does he have to be before you take a hint?”

“He isn’t –” Iwaizumi cuts himself off before he accidentally makes it sound like he has actually given any thought at all to whether or not Pretty Student might be interested in him. It would be weird if he spent any time thinking about whether or not some random guy who happens to come into the library a lot is interested in him, right? That would be weird. And inappropriate. Iwaizumi _works_ here – he isn’t going to hit on the library’s patrons.

… No matter how pretty they are.

Or how they run their fingers through their short, soft-looking brown hair when they lean back in their chair and sigh.

Or how his eyes light up when Iwaizumi manages to say something clever when he returns the books he borrowed.

Or how he smiles when he asks Iwaizumi to help him find something in the astronomy section even though Iwaizumi has told him a million times that every book here is logged into the system digitally and the computers can tell him exactly where that book is.

Or how the light that comes in at the end of the day through the huge high-set windows on the western side of building, tinted red and pink and orange from the sunset, hits his shoulders and bare forearms where he’s pushed up his sleeves.

Or how his fingers curl around the edge of the book when he closes it and pushes his chair back, standing up and –

Oh shit he’s coming over.

Iwaizumi cuts his gaze away from Pretty Student and focuses on the books in his cart, grabbing one at random and shoving it into an empty slot on the shelves. Hanamaki shoots him a pitying look. Iwaizumi ignores him.

“Excuse me,” Pretty Student says from behind Iwaizumi. Even his voice is attractive, all bright and pleasant. “I was hoping someone could help me find a book on Orion.”

“Iwaizumi can help you with that,” Hanamaki says immediately, slapping Iwaizumi's shoulder and grinning at Pretty Student.

Iwaizumi glares at him. “I’m very busy,” he says with forced calm, deliberately looking at Hanamaki instead of at Pretty Student. “Shimizu asked me to get these shelved before closing.”

“She asked me to come take over, actually,” Hanamaki counters cheerfully. He’s enjoying this, the bastard. He grabs at the cart, trying to tug it away from Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi holds onto it.

“I thought you were supposed to be making calls about those damaged dinosaur books,” Iwaizumi grits out.

“Finished those,” Hanamaki chirps. He tugs on the cart again, sharply, managing to pull it away from Iwaizumi only because if Iwaizumi resists any harder he’ll end up causing a scene. Hanamaki grins at him, and then at Pretty Student over Iwaizumi's shoulder. “Iwaizumi will take good care of you,” he says. Then he _winks_.

Iwaizumi is going to kill him.

“I really appreciate it,” Pretty Student says. “Really.”

“He really appreciates it,” Hanamaki parrots, nodding at Iwaizumi. He starts backing down the aisle, pulling the cart with him. “Take your time,” he calls as he reaches the end of the aisle; “I’ll finish these off.”

“Thanks,” Iwaizumi calls after him. He hopes his sarcasm comes through strongly enough. Judging by the laugh that rings out as Hanamaki disappears around the corner, he thinks it probably did.

Hanamaki is such an asshole.

“So,” Iwaizumi says, turning to Pretty Student, because he works here and helping library patrons is his job, “what can I do for you?”

“Lots of things, I’m sure,” Pretty Student says, smiling slyly. Iwaizumi could swear the guy flutters his eyelashes, but that might be Iwaizumi's brain short-circuiting. “For now, though,” Pretty Student continues blithely, “I’m hoping you can help me find a book that a friend told me about. It’s about Orion.”

It takes him a second – during which Pretty Student watches him with that same slightly sly smile on his stupidly pretty face – before Iwaizumi manages to ask, “Orion the constellation or Orion the Greek myth?”

“The myth,” Pretty Student says promptly. “The love story.” Then he flutters his eyelashes again. Or the light is playing tricks on Iwaizumi. It must be the light.

“You know it’s not really a love story, right?” Iwaizumi says, before remembering that it’s his job to help people find books, not to tell them off about the books they’re looking for. “I mean, it’s over here.” He turns and walks over to the section that Pretty Student was just sitting in, over by the table that he was sitting at, in fact, where all of the Greek mythology books are kept.

“Sure it is,” Pretty Student says, following closely behind him. “It might not be a romantic love story, depending on your interpretation, but it definitely _is_ a love story. Orion is the only man Artemis ever loved, and he loved her back just as fiercely.”

“Orion died,” Iwaizumi says, scanning the shelves. He isn’t much on mythology, but he knows that much.

“Shot by the woman he loved,” Pretty Student agrees, nodding. “One of the greatest tragic love stories of all time. Right up there with Romeo and Juliet.”

“I just don’t think it’s much of a love story if that’s how it ends,” Iwaizumi tells him. “What’s the point if they don’t even end up together?”

The books that he knows for sure have the Orion myth in them are all … right behind where Pretty Student was sitting. Iwaizumi doesn’t know how he missed them, if he was looking for them at all. This guy must really be oblivious.

“Well, I do prefer the stories that end happily,” Pretty Student says.

“Doesn’t everyone,” Iwaizumi says drily. He points at the shelf of Orion books. “There might be a few others, but most of what we have with Orion in it is right here.”

“Well what do you know,” Pretty Student says, staring straight at Iwaizumi, “it was here all along.”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi says. His throat feels a bit dry. He swallows. “So,” he says, watching as Pretty Student’s eye flicker back and forth, as though he is studying Iwaizumi's face, “is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Maybe you can recommend a better love story,” Pretty Student says, still staring at Iwaizumi, “since you don’t like the ones with unhappy endings.”

“I don’t think there are any happy endings in mythology,” Iwaizumi says. He can’t think of any, anyway. Though, to be fair, he’s having a little trouble thinking about anything right now except for the way Pretty Student is looking at him.

Pretty Student huffs a quiet laugh. “Good thing we aren’t myths, then, isn’t it?” he says. “Because otherwise I would think that I’ve spent the last three months flirting with you for no reason at all.” He leans forward just a bit, then, holding Iwaizumi's gaze – holding Iwaizumi in place without touching him. His cheeks are colored red and gently gold in the sunset light coming in through the windows.

Iwaizumi hopes that the lighting hides the red on his own cheeks.

“Um,” he says.

“Are you always this smooth?” Pretty Student asks, his eyes lit up with humor.

“I think your stupidity is catching,” Iwaizumi shoots back without thinking, “Mr. Can’t-find-a-book-on-the-shelf-behind-him.”

“Most people call me Oikawa, actually,” Pretty Student immediately returns.

Okay, this time Iwaizumi is _sure_ that he just fluttered his eyelashes. It’s … distracting.

“Right,” Iwaizumi says.

“I don’t have to call you Orion, do I?” Oikawa asks, teasingly.

Iwaizumi hesitates. Flirting with library patrons isn’t exactly frowned upon, but Iwaizumi has always thought of it as, well, tasteless, really. Iwaizumi _works_ here.

He’s so pretty, though. And even though they don’t really know each other, Iwaizumi has had a lot of conversations with him over the last three months. Beyond the good looks and the charm that Oikawa has in spades, there’s something … deeper – more honest, more real – that Iwaizumi keeps getting glimpses of but hasn’t been able to get a good look at yet. But, damn, does he want to.

Oikawa is still watching him, but the relaxed, teasing air about him has wilted just a bit in the few moments during which Iwaizumi hasn’t answered him. He almost looks nervous. It’s charming and also not an expression that Iwaizumi ever wants to see on his face again.

Ah, fuck it.

They _are_ strangers, but Iwaizumi knows that Oikawa likes space and mythology and photography and his family, and that he thinks the Dewey Decimal System is a train wreck in motion, and that he likes so much crap in his coffee that it barely qualifies as coffee anymore, and that he can make strangers laugh and smile when they look on the verge of tears over half-finished university assignments due in ten hours, and all of this adds up to someone Iwaizumi doesn’t really know that much about but does want to know better.

And Iwaizumi really does prefer stories with happy endings.

So he says, “Iwaizumi,” and watches the smile slowly spread back across Oikawa's face, just a bit less teasing and a bit more genuine now.

“Ooh,” Oikawa says, grinning at Iwaizumi, “I like that a lot better than what I was calling you before.”

“Why?” Iwaizumi asks, grinning back at him because Oikawa is fiddling with his glasses and staring at him openly and Iwaizumi has committed to this now. “What were you calling me before?”

“Hot Librarian,” Oikawa says promptly.

Iwaizumi barks out a surprised laugh. Oikawa's grin gets wider.

“Well, it’s not worse than what I was calling you,” Iwaizumi says, “Pretty Student.”

“I like that, actually,” Oikawa says. “You should keep calling me that. Or, you know, just call me.”

“That was terrible,” Iwaizumi tells him. “You’re terrible at this.”

“You’re the one who’s been staring at me like a stalker for three months instead of talking to me,” Oikawa shoots back. “Don’t think I didn’t notice. Makki and I were wondering when you would get your act together.”

“Makki – wait.” Iwaizumi frowns at Oikawa. “You know Hanamaki?”

“I know lots of people,” Oikawa says, enigmatically. “I’m very personable.”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi agrees. “Among other things.”

“Like what?” Oikawa asks. “And don’t say anything mean, or I’ll tell Kiyoko on you.”

Iwaizumi lets that one go, though he’ll definitely be talking to Shimizu later about how she apparently is friends with his crush. It raises all sorts of questions about how Iwaizumi has just happened to end up shelving books right where Oikawa has been sitting so very often recently.

“Well,” Iwaizumi says, feeling ridiculous and hoping like mad that his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel, “I’m hoping that, along with being personable and pretty, you’re also free this Saturday?”

Oikawa's eyes light up. “Now who’s terrible?” he says.

Iwaizumi _knows_ that his cheeks are red now. He can’t help grinning, though.

“I can always ask Makki out instead,” he threatens.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Oikawa says. He crosses his arms and stares at Iwaizumi over the tops of his glasses. “The story doesn’t go hot librarian and hot librarian go out, have a very nice time, and then see where things go,” he says. “It goes pretty student and hot librarian go out, have a very nice time, and then see each other again next Saturday as well because one date is definitely not going to be enough.”

Iwaizumi laughs. “I think I’ve heard that one before,” he says, nodding. He tracks the motion as Oikawa takes his glasses off, holding Iwaizumi’s gaze. His eyes are even prettier without the glasses to cover them up. “I like that one,” he adds, more quietly.

“It’s a good one,” Oikawa agrees, his voice also coming out quieter than it was a moment ago.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi murmurs.

Oikawa's gaze drops just a bit and Iwaizumi mimics him automatically, glancing at Oikawa's mouth. The corners of Oikawa's mouth quirk up and, again, Iwaizumi mimics him. He’s still staring at Oikawa's mouth. It’s a very nice mouth.

“Just kiss already!” Matsukawa suddenly shouts.

Iwaizumi jerks around, spotting Matsukawa and Hanamaki both crouched a few aisles behind him, blatantly spying on him and Oikawa. Neither of them look at all repentant when Iwaizumi glares at them.

“As if I’d let him kiss me now!” Oikawa shouts back. Iwaizumi whips around again to stare at him. Oikawa winks at him. “I’m a third date kind of a boy,” he says.

“Guess we’ll be needing a third date, then,” Iwaizumi says.

“Why, Iwaizumi,” Oikawa says, putting a hand to his chest, “that’s very forward of you. I’m scandalized.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “It’s about time I got my act together, according to some people,” he says.

“I did hear that somewhere,” Oikawa agrees, nodding. “Maybe you can put this new forwardness to use to ask me out, since you haven’t actually done that yet.”

Iwaizumi studies him. Oikawa's sweater looks as soft as his hair, and the sleeves have fallen down to cover his wrists. His glasses are dangling from one hand and his eyes are clear and bright, reflecting the last glimmer of rosy and golden daylight that is filtering into the library around them.

He looks like he belongs here, in the mythology section, standing among Orion and Artemis and Apollo, crowned by velvet dust motes.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi says, “I think I will.”

“Whenever you’re ready, then,” Oikawa says.

“All right.” Iwaizumi straightens up, tracing the curve of Oikawa's wrist with his eyes as Oikawa’s hand comes up to fiddle with his sweater and then looking back at Oikawa's face to meet his eyes. He feels nervous. And excited. He takes a breath. “Will you go out on a date with me,” he asks, “Pretty Student?”

“Why, Hot Librarian,” Oikawa says, his lips tugging upwards into a wide grin, “I thought you’d never ask.”


End file.
